


Sinner In Your Sunday Best

by minbins



Series: A Step by Step Guide to Losing Your Innocence [4]
Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: (over the clothes touching in a church), College Student Minho, DO NOT REPOST MY WORKS I DO NOT CONSENT TO REPOSTING, Exhibitionism, Explicit Consent, First Time Blow Jobs, M/M, To An Extent, actual getting off is at minho's house not in church, church boy jisung, gagging with a tie, inappropriate use of sunday best, read the other parts first this is a series, recent high school graduate jisung, set vaguely in america, technically unsafe sex but minho is clean and sungie is a virgin, there will be discussions re protection in later parts, tutor minho
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-05
Updated: 2020-01-05
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:02:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22132234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/minbins/pseuds/minbins
Summary: “Want to share my prayer book, Jisung?”
Relationships: Han Jisung | Han/Lee Minho | Lee Know
Series: A Step by Step Guide to Losing Your Innocence [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1557112
Comments: 79
Kudos: 1179





	Sinner In Your Sunday Best

**Author's Note:**

> religion warning (?) stuff does go down somewhat during a church service, just to warn anyone who wouldn't wanna read that

Logically, given Jisung’s parents know Minho’s through Church, Jisung really should have expected that he might see Minho there on Sunday. Still, it somehow comes as a surprise, and not one of the welcome kind. Minho, and all Jisung associates with him, is a worrying addition to the morning service that week. And, as much as Jisung tries to steer his parents far,  _ far  _ away from Minho’s family, they pull him over with them as soon as they spot the Lees. 

In between Minho’s parents excitedly telling Jisung’s about the holiday they’re going on, headed off the following morning — down to the seaside for the week, because Minho’s mother wants a breath of fresh air, and isn’t it  _ lovely  _ of Minho to stay behind to keep up with Jisung’s tutoring — Jisung ends up stood beside Minho. It’s strange seeing Minho in public like this, though the slight smile Minho shoots his way is a reminder that Jisung hasn’t imagined their trysts. Minho seems like the perfect son, all soft spoken words and attentiveness, a mask of holier-than-thou innocence that shows considerable talent at acting. Jisung knows who Minho really is, but the older boy has everyone taken in with his charm. 

“You should be more like Minho, Jisungie,” his mother coos, pinching Jisung’s cheek and tutting as he squirms away in discomfort. “He’s vice-president of the Christian society at his college already— such an achievement for someone so young!”

Jisung smiles awkwardly, nodding to pacify his mother, promising that  _ yes, he’ll be more like Minho. _ And he will, no doubt about it, though not in the way his mother is encouraging. If anything, Jisung had been well set on the path to such purity until Minho came along. The Jisung of two weeks ago would have happily thrown himself into striving to be high-ranked in the Christian society. Now, everything seems far less certain. Lost in his thoughts, Jisung ends up at the end of the pew, wall on one side of him and Minho on the other. This should have been a warning sign from the get-go, but Jisung is nothing if not naive.

“Want to share my prayer book, Jisung?” Minho asks, and the adults chuckle good-naturedly amongst themselves at how well their sons are getting along. Nervously, Jisung nods, and Minho scoots closer, pressing them thigh to thigh. It’s a familiar position, though not one Jisung has associated with  _ Church _ until now, and his traitorous body has some sort of Pavlovian response, cock twitching a little in his crisply pressed slacks. 

_ Not here, _ Jisung talks himself down,  _ think of something gross. _ While he tries to conjure up something sufficiently disgusting, however, all thoughts fly uselessly from his mind as Minho crowds in closer still, hand resting nonchalantly on Jisung’s slim thigh as he rests the prayer book between them. The words seem to blur on the page as Jisung tries to focus on them, on  _ anything _ but the way his body is reacting to Minho’s distracting proximity. He shivers, and Minho shakes a little with soft laughter, clearly at his expense. “Stopppp,” Jisung whines, quiet enough so only Minho can hear him. 

“I’m not even doing anything, Sungie,” he points out, and that pitiful truth in itself somehow riles Jisung up more, face flushing with shame. “Are you really that desperate, hm?” Minho hums, hand tightening just a little on Jisungs thigh. Jisung bites back a whimper. Raising his voice to a normal volume, Minho passes his jacket over to him. “Can you hold this for me?” he asks, and Jisung isn’t sure whether to be grateful for the covering, really, given it was Minho who had made it necessary. Jisung, like the horny teenager he is, is achingly hard in public, in Church to boot. Now covered by the coat, Minho’s hand is still on Jisung’s thigh, not that anyone would think anything of it if they looked over. Minho is the perfect, prodigal son, after all. He wouldn’t make the poor Han family’s son get an erection in public, wouldn’t brush over it lightly every now and then to make sure it stays uncomfortably present. Such an angel would never dream of making Jisung like this, surely.

He should hate Minho for this.  _ He hates that he doesn’t hate Minho for this.  _

When they stand, Jisung gets a brief reprieve, though Minho’s hand is back on his thigh every time they sit back down, Jisung squished between Minho and the end of the pew. He can’t escape, though the worst part is that he doesn’t  _ want _ to, if he’s honest with himself. Minho leans in, Jisung squirming next to him. “I can stop, if you want me to,” he offers, checking as always that Jisung isn’t  _ truly _ uncomfortable with his attentions.

Jisung leans back to answer, pointing at the prayer book as if he’s asking something about it rather than- “I don’t want you to stop,” whispered hurried and shameful, but clear as day. Minho smiles knowingly, Jisung’s answer clearly expected. 

“Good boy,” Minho murmurs, soft and sweet as they stand up once more. “Service is nearly over, and I’ll reward you after.”

Jisung knows the Lord’s Prayer off by heart, and as he recites it mindlessly his thoughts are instead filled with Minho. His rewards are always wonderful, and grow dirtier each time Jisung pleases him. Minho seems  _ very _ pleased that Jisung has let him tease him in public like this— while not fully hard like Jisung, Jisung notices Minho subtly adjusting himself, a slight swelling that Minho somehow keeps under control. It must be his experience. 

When Jisung’s mother praises Jisung’s politeness at carrying Minho’s coat out to the car for him, Jisung kind of wishes the ground would open up beneath him. Jisung almost thinks he’s about to be found out, his mother reminding him to hand the coat over, but then Minho asks his parents if Jisung can come over for Sunday lunch. It’s a conversation which ends up with Jisung in the back of Minho’s parents’ smart car, shifting uncomfortably on the plush leather seats as Minho watches him with barely concealed amusement. There’s small talk, the usual  _ we’re so glad you boys are friends, _ and  _ you’re off to college this fall right, Jisung? _ Jisung answers all the questions as politely as he can, focusing on anything other than Minho’s dark eyes on him for the entire drive.

Back at Minho’s house, the older boy’s parents barely have time to tell them to be down in half an hour before Minho is tugging Jisung upstairs to ‘show him his room’, supposedly. Jisung gets one step inside said room before Minho is pushing him against the door to shut it, Jisung whining as Minho’s thigh slots between his, grinding against his crotch where the hard-on had never quite left. Minho pulls off his own tie, the smart black one that Jisung’s mother had complimented Minho on, and stuffs it into Jisung’s mouth to gag him. “Stay quiet, Sungie,” Minho orders, like Jisung has a choice with a mouthful of expensive fabric, and then for some reason drops to his knees in front of him. Jisung wonders why he needs to be down there when his hands can reach Jisung just fine standing up. “Want your reward now, baby boy?”

Still slightly confused, but trusting Minho’s judgment when it comes to such things, Jisung nods. He knows Minho usually prefers verbal responses, but he’s eliminated that option this time, so Jisung sort of hums around the fabric as he nods, hoping the message will still come across fine. Sure enough, Minho is tugging at Jisung’s belt, unbuttoning his slacks soon after. Minho’s parents are right downstairs, clattering around the kitchen and talking loudly, and it’s good that Jisung is gagged in advance because he outright moans as soon as Minho touches him skin on skin, delicate hand pulling Jisung’s briefs down to free his erection. His cock, as Minho prefers to call it. Jisung can’t help but think of it that way too when he’s worked up like this, the word so much dirtier in a way Jisung shouldn’t enjoy. 

He still doesn’t know why Minho is kneeling for this— he’s just working Jisung with his hand like normal (though the fact that this is now  _ normal _ is staggering in itself). Then, however, Minho leans in closer, like he wants a better look at Jisung, so close that Jisung can now feel Minho’s breath on his cock, warm and not altogether an unpleasant sensation. Minho pauses. “Can I, Sungie?” he checks once more for some reason, and Jisung nods duly, confused as Minho moves closer still, and-

Holding Jisung steady with one hand, Minho licks at the head of his cock like it’s a lollipop. While unexpected, it feels much better than Minho’s hand ever has, and Jisung’s eyes roll up into his head a little at the sensation. He wants to stammer, to moan Minho’s name. Instead, mouth stuffed with Minho’s tie, Jisung can only whine around the fabric, watching Minho at work. If just touching another guy’s genitals felt dirty, there aren’t words to describe what it is to put them in your mouth, and yet it feels  _ incredible,  _ so can it really be all that wrong? Minho doesn’t seem disgusted, knelt in front of Jisung like he’s praying to him, Jisung’s need the point of worship. Open mouthed, Minho kisses the tip where he weeps, laving his tongue over the wetness and swallowing it down like honey. Jisung’s hips stutter against nothing but air, and Minho pushes him back against the door fully, hand at his hip and holding him steady.

“Still okay, Jisungie?” Minho checks in between soft kisses, pressing his lips down the length of him and back to the head where he’s still gently leaking. “Nod for me if you want more, sweetheart.”

Jisung isn’t sure what can be ‘more’, compared to this, but Minho always manages to outdo himself. Eagerly, he nods, and Minho coos with his lips still pressed to Jisung’s skin. It buzzes against him, the sound, and Jisung whines at the feeling. Minho looks up at Jisung through his lashes, a picture of innocence despite the setting, and he’s clearly watching for Jisung’s reaction to whatever he’s about to do to him. With a preemptively smug smile that floods Jisung with no small amount of trepidation, Minho breathes in deep. Jisung’s eyes widen, catching on a split-second before he does it, and then Minho’s pretty lips close around his cock, swallowing him down until Jisung feels that perfect nose nudging at his stomach. Minho blinks up at him once, twice, three times, and then pulls off. Both his hands now steady Jisung, who can feel his legs buckling a little. Trailing his tongue along the full length of Jisung’s twitching cock, Minho takes him back in again, holding himself down but not pulling off completely this time. Instead, he keeps bobbing his head like it’s on a spring, up and down with that soft suction that sends Jisung dizzy. 

Trying to keep himself in the moment as his consciousness tries to evade him, Jisung’s hands find the softness of Minho’s hair. Midway through threading his fingers through it, Jisung freezes, but Minho looks up at him and softly nods his assent, humming contentedly when Jisung tugs at it a little. The vibrations from Minho’s mouth had felt good when it had been just his lips against Jisung’s skin, but this is all around him, hot and wet and overwhelming. Just a hand around him had had Jisung questioning his whole world view, and this?  _ This? _ This is something else entirely, something Jisung had never considered an option for pleasure but something that feels so good that Jisung might actually cry. 

Perhaps this is what Minho had meant when he’d said he might let Jisung fuck him… Somehow, Jisung doubts it, though he doesn’t know what Minho  _ can _ mean other than this. Minho swirls his tongue around the head of Jisung’s dick, and he gives up on philosophising in favour of focusing on stopping his legs from crumpling beneath him. Pulling back momentarily, Minho waits for Jisung to look at him. “Sungie,” he says, voice aiding Jisung in his attempt to focus, “are you close?”

Weakly, Jisung nods. 

“Pull my hair extra hard when you’re about to, okay?” Minho checks, waiting for another nod before he moves back onto him. Gently, as if to draw it out longer, Minho starts up again, slowly speeding up the movement of his head until Jisung is gasping around his makeshift gag, moaning and  _ tugging _ at Minho’s hair in warning. Quicker than lightning, Minho pulls back just before the tidal wave reaches its peak, pulling a handkerchief from the pocket of his Sunday best and catching Jisung’s release neatly within it. Trembling, Jisung reaches up to pull the tie out of his mouth, which feels somewhat dry in the wake of it. “Water?” Minho asks, getting up from the floor. When Jisung nods, he pours him a glass. 

There’s a jug on Minho’s bedside table. Jisung wonders if he planned this then, set a jug of water aside before Church as he thought about corrupting the Han family’s son still further. Foolishly, Jisung hopes that it’s so. 

He swallows it down, room temperature but refreshing, and looks back to Minho. Jisung has felt it before, under the blanket, but it’s different for him to actually  _ see _ Minho like this, the outline of him hard against his trousers just from… That. “What can I do?” he asks, voice small and nervous. It’s not that he doesn’t want to, more that he doesn’t know how to do that, what Minho had just done. He’s willing nonetheless, if Minho would only show him how. Much can be said about Jisung, but he’s always ready to learn— from Minho, at least. Few are quite so motivating as his current tutor. “Let me help?” he prompts, pouting when Minho takes too long to answer. 

Minho, who can clearly sense Jisung’s nerves, waves him away. “It’s okay, sweet boy,” he reassures. “How about you just sit there and look pretty, and I can get off at the sight of you all messed up, hm?”

The prospect is unnerving and yet flattering beyond belief, and Jisung easily agrees, letting Minho guide him to sit down before him. Minho’s door has a lock, one he’d pulled shut once he stood up, so there’s no need for a blanket. Jisung sits at the foot of the bed, and Minho leans back against the headboard, pulling himself from his pants with a distinct lack of shame. It makes sense, given he enjoys the way it makes Jisung blush. Spitting into his hand, Minho wraps it around his cock and starts jerking himself off, holding eye contact with Jisung all the while and smiling as he squirms on the spot. Wilted from release and tucked back into his underwear, Jisung’s own cock twitches a little, still. He wills it down, as he really doesn’t think he has it in him to face Minho’s ministrations again right now. Minho is just so  _ much. _

It’s difficult, though, with Minho looking like that. It’s the first chance Jisung has to really  _ see _ him like this, to see what Minho’s cock looks like in comparison to his own. Jisung had been right, before. Minho is indeed slightly bigger than him, a little darker in colour too. Flushed and heavy in Minho’s dainty hand, it looks larger still. Intrusive thoughts flood Jisung, imagining himself on his knees in front of Minho, sucking on it like the older boy had done for him. Perhaps he’ll let him next time. Jisung resolves to ask for it when he next gets the opportunity. “So cute,” Minho gasps out, eyes falling shut a little as he watches Jisung pull his lip between his teeth

“I want to suck you next time,” Jisung blurts out, and the words seem to be the tipping point for an already close Minho, who curses and spills over his fist. 

“Oh, baby,” Minho pants out a few moments later, wiping himself down with a tissue from the box beside his bed. “You’re too easy to corrupt, you know that?”

Jisung should, but he doesn’t see that as a bad thing. “Can I?” he asks, somewhere in the balance between shy and eager.

“Of course, baby boy.”

“And the other thing…” Jisung pauses, lowers his voice to a whisper. “Fucking? What do you mean by that? You mentioned it last time…”

“I did, didn’t I?...” Minho hums. “Well, I suppose my parents are away this week. Maybe if you’re  _ really _ good, I’ll show you.”

“Does it feel better than that other thing you just did?”

“Depends on who you ask,” Minho replies somewhat cryptically. “But yes, I think so. That was a blowjob, by the way, sweetheart.”

_ Blowjob. _ Jisung has seen the term spray-painted on bus stops, but has never dared to ask his parents what it meant after they glared in the graffiti’s general direction. Apparently the other thing Minho’s offering him is even better. Jisung will believe it when he sees it. Or feels it, rather.

“Minho!” someone calls from downstairs, and Minho calls back that they’ll be down in a minute. 

“Let’s get you looking a little less fucked out before we give the parents a heart attack, huh?” Minho mutters, running his fingers through Jisung’s messy hair. Jisung sighs happily, leaning into the touch. “Stop being cute, you can do that later when we have the time.”

Jisung giggles, and Minho swats at him. “What?” he asks, batting his eyes. Jisung knows he’s cute, and perhaps takes advantage of it sometimes. Maybe.

“Come on, you. Time to play we-totally-didn’t-just-get-each-other-off when they ask us what we’ve been up to.”

“Is that a fun game?” Jisung asks, fixing Minho’s rumpled fringe in turn. Minho’s lips are a little swollen, but hopefully not to a noticeable extent. They should be okay.

“One of my favourites, darling.”

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading!! hope you enjoyed pt4 <3 please don't forget comments and kudos if you can, writers thrive on motivation xoxo
> 
> reminder that this series is not my main focus - it's just something i do as a side project if i wanna write something quickly, i.e. this whole part was written today- and if you hound me for updates i will be far less motivated to work on it <3
> 
> [twt](https://twitter.com/scbaes)
> 
> [cc](https://curiouscat.qa/minbinnie)
> 
> -V xx


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